


Revenge Is Sweet (But Your Triumph Is Sweeter)

by sweeterthankarma



Category: Sense8 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Inspired by Riley's opening scene in 1x01, as always, because I was rewatching Sense8 and got inspired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 14:47:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18345833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweeterthankarma/pseuds/sweeterthankarma
Summary: It’s Friday night and most people at the club are drunk or high around her, so it’s not surprising, though still very annoying, when Riley overhears some guy complaining about the show she’s putting on. She doesn’t hear it herself, of course, as she’s too busy on stage to hear anything but the pounding of the bass and her own blood. But the complaint, snide and loud, reaches Will’s ears first, as he stands in the crowd, watching his girlfriend perform.





	Revenge Is Sweet (But Your Triumph Is Sweeter)

It’s Friday night and most people at the club are drunk or high around her, so it’s not surprising, though still very annoying, when Riley overhears some guy complaining about the show she’s putting on. She doesn’t hear it herself, of course, as she’s too busy on stage to hear anything but the pounding of the bass and her own blood. She hears little things within her cluster too, sounds she’s grown to like and appreciate and expect, leaving her feeling unguarded and uneasy whenever they’re not around. The faint echo of happy laughter coming from Amanita or Dani or Felix, hundreds of miles away, has become a staple sound in her life, just like the sound of Will’s creaky radiator at his apartment. 

But the complaint, snide and loud, reaches Will’s ears first, as he stands in the crowd, watching his girlfriend perform.    
    “Guys just have different DJ energy, it’s a fact,” the guy continues, and Will tenses. He recognizes the voice as coming from the man standing next to him. He reeks of misogyny and marijuana — not even the good kind, Riley notes— and he alternates puffs from his joint with sips of beer in a red solo cup. He’s the epitome of class, Will thinks snidely, and he considers saying that aloud, defending his girlfriend until he feels her beside him, steadying him.

    “Hey,” she says with a small smile and a hand on his arm. Will knows what she’s going to say before she even opens her mouth. 

    “Don’t worry about him, I hear it all the time. It doesn’t matter.”

Will sighs, the breath leaving his mouth forcefully. “It does, though,” he insists.

She gives him an unconvincing shrugs and invites him to visit her onstage, where he can at least get a break from the scent of weed potent in the crowd. Though honestly, it’s barely an improvement up here.

Riley chuckles. “You get used to it,” she says. “After a while, it gets almost comforting.”

    “The weed or the brainless comments?” Will asks. 

She changes the song then, and replies to him nonverbally. “Both,” she tells him, and he hears her response as loud and clear in his own mind as if she were speaking aloud. Will relaxes in the familiarity of her inside of him, apart of him, as she always is, and he watches her spin up close, taking a moment to admire her. But then he catches sight of the same guy in the crowd, busy on his phone with the screen lighting up his face, and he stiffens again.

    “Okay,” Riley says, tightening Will’s hands in her own. They’re back in the crowd now so that the audience doesn’t see her talking to herself, though she doubts they’d notice or even care, every person either too high on a variety of drugs or simply caught up in the music.

    “I know it sucks,” Riley continues, “but I hear that sort of thing all the time. Female DJs, female  _ anythings,  _ honestly, just have to ignore that. And look!” She whisks him back to the stage, showing him the entire dance hall filled with hundreds of people, most of whom are enjoying the show she’s putting on. “So many people love what I’m doing. That’s what matters to me.”

    “I know,” Will admits, “but you shouldn’t have to deal with any of that negative bullshit. No women should.” Will remembers, through Sun’s mind, the way that associates and clients and partners would always dismiss her, hoping for Joong-Ki to assist them instead because they expected he’d be more knowledgeable. He remembers how Rajan always encouraged Kala’s forward strides in the pharmaceutical company, but how he was one of few; nearly everyone else she had shared her talent with had shrugged her off with barely any reasoning, though she had known it was due to the fact that she was female rather than male. And he knows how much Nomi has faced, how many people have told her that she isn’t a real woman, that her struggles aren’t real, and it pains him. He thinks briefly of all the judgment that the women in the world have endured based on their gender and sex and he wants so badly to erase it all, to fight for them. 

But he watches Riley spin and he realizes that in a way, she’s fighting for herself on her own, that she’s always been doing exactly that. She’s getting lost in the music as she always does, and while he shares her feeling, there’s a certain thrill he can’t ignore, one that comes fully from her and her alone. The song she chooses takes him back to a Reykjavík bar, to a dinner with friends and family and laughter and pure joy, and the memory is all Riley’s. She feels it in a deeper, stronger way, more intensely than Will does does, due to having experienced it firsthand however many years ago it occurred. Still, Will knows, when she looks out at the sea of people before her, she thinks about how far she’s come and how she accomplished it on her own, back when even a single step forward seemed insurmountable.

Will moves behind her, slinging his arms around her waist and pulling her tight, and he watches her smile from the crowd. He kisses the slope of her neck and whispers softly into her ear, “I’m proud of you.” 

He nuzzles into her shoulder and she moves them back to the crowd before turning him around and slotting her mouth quickly against his. 

    “I know,” she replies. “Thanks.”

The song plays for longer than it otherwise would as Riley reaches up to frame Will’s face, holding him close, and she laughs as she pulls away and presses an order of buttons that makes no sense to Will but seems to be an easy fix to her. She kisses him once more before bringing him back to the stage, and just as she begins to dance with him, she grabs his wrist and says, “you know...if you wanted to spill that guy’s drink or something, I really wouldn’t hate it.”

Will grins wickedly at her. He scans the crowd, catching sight of the douchebag at the bar getting a refill, and he presses a kiss to Riley’s temple.

    “On it.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, please let me know! Comments, kudos and reblogs always make my day. You can find me on tumblr under the same username, sweeterthankarma.


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